Gu Jiao's gaze swept across the room, and she spotted the problem at once.
She reached out and swiftly pulled a silver needle from the patient's wrist.
The Duke's face stopped its slight twitching.
Only Gu Jiao was standing by the bed, no one saw what happened to the Duke, they only saw Gu Jiao pulling out the Duke's silver needle.
A sense of shock rippled through the people inside the room.
Mu Qingchen frowned.
"What are you doing!"
Accompanied by an angry and delicate rebuke, a young girl dressed in a light green waist-hugging dress came in, carrying a bowl of medicinal soup.
She placed the soup on the table and quickly walked to the bedside, glaring at Gu Jiao with indignation.
People in this world often judge others by their appearance; the girl was originally just a bit angry, but upon seeing Gu Jiao's face, a few more traces of contempt appeared.
She said coldly, "Who are you! Why did you touch my silver needle!"
